


just on the edge of glamorous

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Dark Angel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Alec, College Student Ames, Flirting, Fluff, Food Porn, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Ice Cream, Implied Sexual Content, Lust, M/M, Pining, Romance, Trope Bingo Round 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: Alec’s face was inches away, breath reeking of strawberries and childish taunts and Ames, supposedly an impenetrable tower of strength, was heartbeats away from unraveling.High School AU & Human AU. This is set in the same world as my fics ‘the corroding of the sun’ and ‘that itch, it keeps calling.’





	just on the edge of glamorous

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill on my Trope Bingo [card](https://immolate-the-silence.dreamwidth.org/37096.html) for Food Porn.

Just  _how _ Alec managed to fit his long, skinny legs up onto the dash, Ames didn’t know. Nor did it matter while his full attention was really on the boy - not technically one considering they were the same age, but a boy to Ames - chowing down on his triple scoop strawberry cone, so high it nearly smashed against the roof. In the oppressive heat, Alec was alternately licking his hand to catch every drop he could, exactly like a cat lapping up milk. 

_This_ was how Ames spent his weekends. 

And Ames’ mind  _inevitably_ strayed to  _other, _ dirtier things every time Alec’s bright red tongue escaped the confines of his perky mouth. He would watch with an unstable mixture of disgust and fascination, jeans tightening, mouth drying, willpower not to squirm or lash out irritatingly dwindling… 

Only Alec could distract him from his own ice cream: a simple one-scoop chocolate cone, _more than _satisfying. _This _was why he limited his Alec intake during the week and why it was probably for the best they didn’t share classes anymore; then again, it hardly mattered given Alec wasn’t even in college and probably never would be if he persisted in his stubborn way. 

Ames tried not think about that because it lead to all these other thoughts about how he’d stuck around for Alec but that someday he wouldn’t anymore, when he actually  _graduated; _ about how Alec didn’t even want to  _try _ to better himself; about how they were total opposites and it made no sense for Ames to be here, doing something as stupidly unimportant as sharing an afternoon over idle chitchat and junk food. 

So what kept Ames crawling back every weekend and occasional night: lust, curiosity, nostalgia?

A promise he wasn’t aware he’d ever made?

“Oh yeah,” Alec quipped. “That reminds me.”  _What reminds you? _ Ames wondered but decided to forgo asking. “I picked up a part-time job at Wimby’s. Just bagging groceries is all, nothing that glamorous.” If Alec had actually  _listened _ to Ames, then maybe he  _would_ be doing something glamorous. 

But instead, the only person he gave a damn about in this world was a goddamn bagger at a tiny grocery store Ames was more than familiar with, the only offering their small hometown had. It was mere miles and yet whole  _worlds_ away from where he went to University, where Alec had flat out  _refused _ to visit. It was like Alec wanted them to be in totally separate worlds. Ames still hadn’t figured out whether it was a ploy to push him away or an escape plan for him to fall back on or something not even he could dream up. Alec could be a secretive son of a bitch when he wanted to be; not that Alec wanted to  _be _ much. 

He did, however, want to be with Ames.

Or maybe Alec was just too lazy to push him  _completely _ away, just far enough out of reach, just far enough to drive Ames  _mad _ with the distance. 

So yeah, the most he could do was spend Sundays with the stupid slacker who had stolen his heart, indulging in junk food, pouring over half-finished sketches and living in the past, among _ other_ things. 

Having sucked enough of his ice cream down to not worry so much about melting, Alec quickly turned to a new course of action: getting Ames as turned on as possible  _before _ actually laying sticky hands on him. “Being a bagger doesn’t turn you on even just a  _little_ bit, huh?” Alec’s face was inches away, breath reeking of strawberries and childish taunts and Ames, supposedly an impenetrable tower of strength, was heartbeats away from unraveling. “No, all you ever cared about was me becoming a starving artist, collecting commissions, inhaling all that turpentine.”

“You wouldn’t be starving,” Ames reminded, just like he asked Alec every weekend if he was good on cash. Just as he would slip a little under a hundred into Alec’s pocket discreetly.

“No, you’d tuck me away in some little apartment. Your own personal love slave,” Alec grinned, flirting dangerously with an idea Ames had considered more than once but never explicitly offered. Sure, he gave enough to keep Alec alive and fed, but never enough that he could be accused of keeping him. No doubt it was why he’d taken the part-time job, the one Ames could say beyond a shadow of a doubt was  _beneath_ him. 

Hand grasping Alec’s shoulder, Ames dug in and yanked him closer, bare throat exposed mere inches from his ravenous mouth. “I’d take the offer if I were you.”

“But I’m not you, Ames.”

Resolve crumbling under the weight of Alec’s sharp, daring mouth, Ames released him, only to have him resume work on his treat like the last five minutes never happened, like he could resist Ames just like  _that. _ He was devouring frantically what remained, tongue swirling in spirals, poisonous mouth slurping. 

Ames’ hand squeezed down mercifully over his crotch, seeking a relief Alec was purposely avoiding. “Glutton,” he cursed, rolling his zipper down until Alec’s hand seized his. “ _Freak_ ,” he ground out, the common moniker leading Alec’s fingers to bear down harder on him, to dive down into heat and moisture and skin, to make Ames pant and swear and sweat. 

“Aww, White, you know I live for ruffling those pretty little feathers of yours.”

Ames huffed. “When I  _let _ you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Alec rolled his eyes and crushed his cone, sprinkling crumbs over Ames’ immaculate seats. “Let’s just get on with it already.”

_Cocky son of a bitch. _

Forbidden from Alec’s mouth, Ames licked the strawberry ice cream coating his one hand, remnants of Alec’s childlike happiness twisted until it verged on the edge of porn, and tried to free the other currently crushed within Alec’s grip, all the while realizing that his anger didn’t seem to matter.

The damage was already done.

**FIN**


End file.
